Chapter 7
Rafe
We sit in the second row at church, with Laura’s cousin, Jules, and her partner, Mitch. Do I believe in God? I have no idea. It’s a nice idea to have some all-knowing entity watching over and guiding you, but if that’s the case, what’s up with all the shittiness that happens in the world?
So, yeah, I can’t say either way.
All I know is that when I’d offered to stay with Campbell today, I’d been hit with equal parts panic and relief. Spending every Sunday morning in church is getting old.
I don’t get a chance to chat with Jules until mass is over, and I’ve done all the required Sunday morning catch-ups.
She kisses me on the cheek and says hi to Laura.
“I made up with Tanner,” I blurt. I’ve been dying to tell her because she’s been bugging me about it for months.
She gasps and playfully punches my shoulder. “Rafe! Oh my gosh, I’m so happy.” Real actual tears rim her eyes. “Now we can get the group back together.”
“Easy there. Tanner was okay, but I still don’t know how Royce or Circus will be.”
“They miss you. I’ve been telling you this all along. Please tell me you’ll at least think about coming for our usual drinks.”
“I’ll think about it.” The thought of walking into Ugly’s, them all looking at me and remembering what a dick I was, isn’t my idea of a good time. I’m embarrassed. Getting it over and done with is probably the smart option though.
Laura nudges me. “You made up with Tanner? Since when?”
Oops. “Ah, last night.”
“Thanks for telling me.” She doesn’t sound annoyed, just resigned. I’d argue I haven’t seen her since then, since she was working late last night, but that’s not an excuse. If I’d wanted to tell her like I did Jules, I would have already.
That familiar guilt eats at me.
But then, Laura doesn’t ask for details either, more interested in talking to Mitch, Jules’s boyfriend, about how the updates are going on their house.
I let out a long breath.
It’s clear things aren’t okay between us. I can’t remember the last time we had an actual conversation, but what do I do with that knowledge?
Deep down, we both know we should end it.
But knowing that and actually following through are two totally different things.
I’m a coward. Not new information.
I wish I could be brave like Tanner, or not care like Cam, or be totally happy playing the little role set out for me like Jules. They’re all happy being who they are, but I can’t be happy being me when I don’t even know who that person is anymore.
It’s like high school ended and then I became this … this … puppet of a person.
I clench my jaw against the frustration and remind myself I’m the only one to blame.
“Hello, you two,” my aunt Leonie, says.
I kiss her cheek. “We haven’t seen you in a few weeks.”
“I’ve been away visiting family on the husband’s side.” She takes Laura’s left hand and holds it up. “I was hoping there’d be news when I got back.”
Laura’s stare immediately meets mine, and I swear the same thought passes between us: fuck my life.
“Is there any particular reason why?” Laura asks, smiling more politely than I’d be able to.
“Well, it was your anniversary the other week. I thought maybe one celebration would be cause for another.”
It was? Judging by how stiff Laura’s smile has turned, she didn’t remember either. I guess that’s why we’ve been asked that question more than usual lately.
A group of our friends is heading out for coffee, but I make the excuse of having to show someone through a house to get out of it. I can’t people today. Laura obviously feels the same because she opts to come with me, clearly knowing I don’t actually have to work.
“It’s good about you and Tanner,” she says on the way home.
“Yeah. It feels like a weight has lifted.”
She hums in response. I strain to try and think of something to say to her, but my mind is blank.
It only takes a few minutes to get home, but every minute we’re in that car feels drawn-out. Torturous. This isn’t okay. For either of us.
“Laura, I—” I’m distracted when I pull into the driveway and find the front yard totally cleared of cutlery. “Holy shit, he actually cleaned it up.” A small laugh escapes me.
“Why did he do it in the first place?”
“I don’t know, to be funny.”
“That was funny?”
When I woke up this morning, my answer would have been a solid no, but I can imagine Cam and Reynolds, drunk off their asses, thinking they’d come up with the greatest idea ever. “Maybe you had to be there.” It’s been a long time since I did anything stupid just because.
Laura undoes her seat belt, and I follow her out of the car. “Isn’t he getting a bit old for things like that? Sometimes …”
“What?”
She purses her lips as she unlocks the front door. “Don’t you think it’s a bit weird how much attention he pays you? I mean, your name was in a heart, Rafe.”
“I saw.”
“Do you think, maybe, he has a crush?”
I snort. “You didn’t really know him when he was younger, but trust me, Cam has always been like this.”
“If you say so. I just don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
Like … us? I want to say the words but can’t.
“Why aren’t you guys friends anymore?” she asks.
“We drifted apart in high school.”
“And do you think he’s trying to … drift back together?”
Could that be it? All this time I thought Cam was trying to be as irritating as possible. The idea of being friends again, hanging out like we used to … it makes me shift with, well, it’s not exactly discomfort … it’s something warm and foreign that I can’t name.
Being friends with Cam was the most at ease I’ve ever felt in my life. Maybe that’s because we were kids, or maybe it was all him. After so long, I doubt it could ever go back to what it was.
I’m smiling when I say, “Cam likes to annoy people. That’s all it is.”
“And is that all it is when you’re watching him from our window?”
“What do you mean?”
She shakes her head, looking lost. “I don’t know, Rafe. I don’t know what’s going on with you, or with me. It’s like we’re both more concerned with what’s happening out there rather than with us.”
“That’s probably fair.”
Her foot taps against the floor. “We forgot our anniversary. I’m always working, and if you’re not at work, you’re worrying about Tanner, or Campbell, or … literally anyone, I guess.”
“You’re right.”
“So how do we fix this?” She looks lost. Her hands are twisting together, and she’s looking at me like I might have the answers, which is the most ridiculous thing ever.
I don’t even have the answers for my own life, let alone whatever is going on with us.
Her words have triggered something though.
A conversation I’ve been holding back because I’m scared it’s redundant and we’ll go in circles again.
Every time we break up, the relief fills me with so much happiness, but it never lasts long.
Tasting that freedom again, only to chicken out when it comes to telling people we’ve ended things, would kill me.
“Maybe …” I clear my throat. “Maybe we don’t.”
“This again, Rafe?” She sinks into one of the dining chairs, defeated, and I know how she feels. “So, what? We separate for a few days, and then you come and ask to get back together? Are we going to go through all that again?”
I want to tell her it’ll be different this time, but I don’t have a fucking clue.
Something feels different. Like I’m stronger, maybe, but I still don’t trust myself.
So I ask her the question I’ve been stewing over for a year at least. The one I haven’t wanted to confront her with, because it’ll make our whole situation that much more real.
“Do you love me?”
She opens her mouth, about to reply on autopilot, and I quickly hold up my hand.
“Think about it for a second.”
“What do you want from me?” she explodes. “I just … I …” The quick burst of anger fizzles out.
I pull the chair opposite her away from the table and slowly sit. “It’s okay. If you don’t, I mean.”
“Are you saying you don’t love me?”
Turning that question back around makes me realize how hard it is to answer.
“Honestly …” I lick my suddenly dry lips.
“You’re amazing, but I don’t think the way I love you is how you’re supposed to when you want to marry someone and spend your life with them.
Can you really say that being together for another ten years, twenty, thirty is a future that excites you? ”
She doesn’t answer for so long I’m afraid I’ve hurt her feelings. Then she lets out a tiny “No.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“If we do this …” Her voice shakes. “It needs to be for real this time. All the breaking up and getting back together is confusing, and I can’t keep doing it.”
“I know.”
“But …” She reaches for my hand, and I let her take it. “You’re one of my oldest friends. I don’t want to do that breakup thing where we say we’ll still talk and then ignore the other person’s existence. This is a small town.”
“I know. I don’t want that either.”
“You’re also forgetting one pretty big thing.”
I frown and tilt my head, not sure where she’s going with this.
“Nothing’s changed since the last time we broke up. If it happens, we still need to tell people. Everyone, actually. Are you ready for that this time?”
I’m so totally, completely not. Facing my mom and telling her we’ve ended things would be the equivalent of telling her the world is ending tomorrow. At least, that’s how big it feels.
“I have to be.”
“You do,” she agrees.
“Fuck.” I run my free hand over my face. “I don’t know if I can do it.”
“Then maybe I don’t give you a choice.” She sniffs, drawing attention to the silent tears running down her face. “We can’t keep doing this to each other. We’ve been together almost half our lives, and we’re too comfortable. If we don’t do it now, we never will. It’s time.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
My throat sticks with a lump. I’m not upset, not exactly, but the finality of what she’s said hits hard. “This is going to be complicated.” There’s the house, all our stuff … how do you unravel almost a decade’s worth of shared moments? Shared things?
“Yeah. I’ll pack a bag and go for the night. Maybe stay at my parents’ or—”
“No. If you do that, people will know—”